Finally fed up with Cuccio’s Bakery, I found myself saying the opposite of what the Godfather character Pete Clemenza told his partner in crime: “Leave the gun, take the cannoli.” Well, not the gun part, but definitely the cannoli.
Cuccio’s Bakery is practically a landmark, having been established as a family-owned Italian bakery in 1936. The place does have an old-style charm with the simple interior and framed black and white picture of the store’s owner in his delivery truck from the days of old. But, with miser-filled, small cannoli at 95 cents each, that’s where the old style charm ends.
It looks like, though, I won’t be giving Cuccio’s any more opportunities to prove itself. Every time I buy their cannoli, each and every one of them has turned out to be barely filled. The little bit of filling you see in the picture above is a just a ruse.
Read more about Cuccio’s canNOli after the jump.
I bought a box of cannoli from Cuccio’s to a friend’s house for a gathering and boy, was it embarrassing. “Oh, thank you,” they all said, “it’s so nice of you to bring cannoli from Brooklyn.” Bite. “Oh, there’s nothing in them.” I apologized to my friends, making the excuse that Cuccio’s might have been really busy during the holidays and didn’t have time to fill them properly.
Last week, another friend of mine asked me to buy her a cannolo (it seems this is the singular) from Cuccio’s. I got one for myself, as well. A minute later, as we each took a bite of our respective cannoli, the cookie just caved in and crumbled. As usual, there was nothing in them. I know this is not the way a cannoli is supposed to be, so I figured the manager might want to know more about this situation.
When I explained to the clerks about the disappointing cannoli, they just laughed. The older Italian woman — overseeing all while sitting straight-backed on a stool — called the baker from the back.
When I showed him our two bitten cannoli, he acted like a thief caught red-handed. First, he said that we bit the cannoli, so there’s no way he can prove that we didn’t eat the filling. I showed him how clean the cookie is inside and he couldn’t say anything. Then, he tried to say that this is just two chance unfilled cannolo. I told him that it has happened every single time I got them at Cuccio’s.
It wasn’t until I reminded him that one very small cannoli (listen, cannolo just doesn’t flow as easily for me) costs nearly $1, that he seemed to understand why the Cuccio’s hollow cookie couldn’t cut it. He gave me one to get rid of me. What I really wanted to hear was that next time, they would be generously filled all the way through. Instead, all he did was get rid of me for good — because, it looks like there won’t be a next time for me at Cuccio’s.
When I want some cannoli, it’ll be quite a few blocks over (just glad I live in South Brooklyn), but I’ll head over to Cannoli Plus at 6903 New Utrecht Avenue. At this Bensonhurst bakery, the filled goodies are delicious and — guess what? — filled. They filled them on order to keep the cookies from getting soggy.
The friendly counter clerk didn’t even roll her eyes when I asked her to put all my choice picks in the containers I brought myself. Go hungry, because Cannoli Plus will most likely have some desserts fresh out of the oven that you won’t be able to resist. Based on the reviews on Brooklyn and Beyond, Cannoli Plus has sweet Italian specialties (i.e., casatelle, sfogliatelle) that rival mamma’s.
So, I suppose a revision is in order. Don’t “leave the cannoli” — just forget Cuccio’s and head to — fuhgetaboutit — Cannoli Plus.